We Might As Well Be Strangers
by YumiDoesTheMacarena
Summary: The last thing Haruno Sakura expected was to find him in a tree.
1. Chapter 1

A little something for any SasuSaku shippers out there! This is, I think, a more appropriate Valentine's story. Somewhat. It's still not exactly light and cheerful, though. then again, this is _Sasuke_.

Song: _We Might As Well Be Strangers_ by Keane rather fits the mood of the story. Though I did not write it while listening to this song, it came on while I was editing the story and seemed appropriate, so I adopted it for the title.

Warning: Blatant alternate timeline, the divergent point being sometime around chapter 354. So no, Sasuke has not met Tobi. Also, OOC as a result, but hopefully it's still believable. (We all know Sasuke would be out seeking revenge instead of moping.)

Enjoy!

* * *

After everything she'd been through for him, the last thing Haruno Sakura expected was to find him in a tree.

A _fucking_ tree. In the _rain_. Two other shinobi were there, a large male with orange-looking hair (it was hard to be certain in the discoloring mist) and another whose slicked-back and thoroughly soaked locks looked white. The former stood under the boughs of a tree next to Sasuke's, and the latter's arms were stretched out, head tipped back in acceptance of the torrential downpour. The rain was loud and hard, sending minute vibrations down the shaft of Sakura's umbrella as she stood staring. There was no _reasonable_ way the three ninja could still be ignorant of her presence, but not even one of the men looked her way.

After the initial spike of disbelief and subsequent surge of anger, Sakura found herself entirely too exhausted to start a confrontation and, sighing, walked over to stand under the branch Sasuke was balanced on. His arms were loose, relaxed—one slung over his drawn-up knee and the other loose hand in his lap. He was soaked to the bone, having apparently done away with his cloak the same way the silver-headed man had done. Head tipped back, rain sluicing down his handsome face, Sasuke looked... exhausted, actually. There were circles under his eyes, and his limbs looked heavy. Was he sick, or had he finally realized how tiring a life he had signed up for? Sakura shoved the concern away.

Crossing her arms, umbrella propped against her shoulder, Sakura tipped her head to the side. "Do you want to get pneumonia?" she asked sharply, in the same tone she had used so often on Naruto as a Genin. "Or do you just not care?" If it was the latter, she could understand; from her unexpected words it was clear that she no longer cared not to bait the tiger that was her ex-teammate.

And he was her _ex-_teammate. He didn't _matter_ anymore, not to Kakashi and not to Naruto and _certainly_ not to her.

If only she could believe the words as easily as she said them.

"Juugo," Sasuke said after several seconds of non-acknowledgement. "Give me some space."

Without a word, the orange-head (Juugo, apparently) flipped up his hood and moved out into the rain. Hand tightening on the handle of her umbrella, Sakura watched him pass in silence before redirecting her attention to the brunette. She swallowed, then scowled. "That was a hell of an answer, Sasuke," she said dryly, making certain her voice would carry to his perch. Lowering the parasol, she shook it out and closed it, setting it against the tree trunk. "I'm moved to tears."

The corner of his lips twitched, and when he spoke it was as though all the intervening years melted away. He suddenly became Uchiha Sasuke, the slowly-warming-up teammate, when seconds before he had been the utterly remote missing-nin. "Oh, shut up, Sakura."

"Oh, so you do remember me?" she said archly. "The last time we met, I couldn't quite _tell_."

"Where're the others?"

"There aren't any others," she answered stiffly. "I'm on a walk, not a mission. You're awfully close to Konoha."

"Hn."

"You are _loquacious_, aren't you?" she asked pointedly. "Never at a loss for words, that's Sasuke."

"What happened to the '-kun'?"

"You broke my heart. Not that you care."

He shrugged almost agreeably. "No, it doesn't really matter."

"You're a jerk."

"And you're annoying."

The words washed over her, making her gut clench and her sight blur. "Bastard."

"Only Naruto gets to call me that," he said swiftly, softly. "It's not your place."

"You are one, though," she spat.

Again, that almost comfortable shrug. "That's not really the point. What do you want?"

"I _want_ you to not get yourself killed via the flu. I think a kunai to the back would be much more fitting."

"Just like my family, then. I suppose there would be a certain poetic justice to that. Would you care to be the one to deliver the final blow?"

Just that easily, the concern was back, riding Sakura like a demon on her back. "_What_," burst out of her before she could really think about what to say.

"I would let you," he continued in the same detached, almost amused voice. "If Naruto isn't available, I think I would let you be the one to kill me. Kakashi never did anything to really earn my esteem. He never put himself out there the way you two did."

"You're not making sense," Sakura pointed out when she felt confident that she could speak without her voice wavering too badly. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Me. Dying," he clarified, as though she didn't already _know_ that. Suddenly agitated, he sat up and looked at her for the first time that day, running hand through his soaked hair. "Did you hear about Itachi? He died of an illness two weeks ago. An _illness_."

Sakura wasn't sure what to say to that, and somehow settled on, "Were you there?"

"Yes," he answered, swinging his legs down. The slightest twitch of his right hand where it rested on the branch next to his thigh indicated that she should join him, and after just a second Sakura did so, crouching at Sasuke's side lifting a tentative hand to his back. From so close, she could hear the unnatural rasp in his usually silky voice and wasn't sure if it was emotion or sickness creeping up on her old friend. "I was. The monster. He was at an old Uchiha base, a place where our family used to store equipment. He was being tended by the-" he cut off, them mumbled, "the cats," as though embarrassed. "The _ninja_ cats," he clarified, giving her a look that dared her to mock him. She didn't, far too concerned with the buildup of bacteria in his right lung. How long he had been in the rain was no longer an issue-it would only have been exacerbating an already-existing problem.

"He was in the back room, on his damned deathbed. Kisame was nowhere to be found, so Suigetsu started to throw a fit, and then when Karin tried to heal whatever Itachi had so we could fight, _it killed her_. Itachi as well. I don't know what the hell it was," he rambled, not even seeming to notice the chakra Sakura was applying to his back. "And I don't want to," he added vehemently.

"What do you want, Sasuke?"

"Sasuke-_kun_," he stipulated, glaring at her with suddenly red eyes.

She relented, dropped her gaze to his jawline. "Sasuke-kun. What do you want?"

He spat, "I want my fucking brother back. _I_ was supposed to kill him. Not some damned virus. _Me._ I've given up so _much_. Just for him. Just to get even. To be the Avenger he made me. And now he's fucking _gone_ and I have nothing to show for all my efforts and sacrifice. All those risks, all that work, all this useless fucking _power, _and _it does me no good without Itachi around to kill._"

"I'm sorry you feel that way. Who was Karin?"

"My tracker."

"Who is Suigetsu?"

"The guy with Zabuza's sword on his back in the rain."

"And the other one is Juugo?"

Suddenly Sasuke's hand was tight around her wrists, black eyes boring into her green. "Stay away from him. He's dangerous without me to control him."

"Alright," she agreed quickly, thinking a fevered and slightly delirious Sasuke was infinitely more dangerous than the guy who was currently holding out his cloak to give a stray rabbit some cover from the rain at the edge of the clearing. "I will, Sasuke."

"Sasuke-_kun_," he insisted again.

"Sasuke-kun."

"Good. I don't like it the other way," he mumbled, barely audible under the rain, and then twisted to face her somewhat, drawing one knee up between them. He leaned over his folded leg and let his brow rest on her shoulder. "What the hell am I supposed to do now, Sakura?"

"You come home."

"I've got a team to look after."

"They can come, too," she said softly, tucking a spiky, wet lock behind the shell of his ear. "I can get all of you into Konoha, Sasuke."

"Suigetsu wants to kill Kisame, take Sameheda or whatever the hell it is. that freaky sword."

"He'll live," Sakura said, voice laced with impatience. "Come home, Sasuke."

"Juugo's not safe in a town for long periods of time."

"Why not?"

"He has a condition."

"I'm one of the best medics in the world," she told him, and his head lifted, brows raised under mussed bangs. "I can take a look at him. If I'm not good enough, Shishou will. The Hokage, Tsunade," she clarified after a pause. "My Shishou; I became her apprentice shortly after you left."

"I didn't know that," he admitted, lowering his head once more to her shoulder. Her hand lifted and started sliding up and down his upper arm, across his shoulder. "You're not going to kill me," he said calmly.

"No," she agreed, and bit her lip a little. "Not unless you make me."

"I won't."

"Then I won't," she promised.

"Naruto's gonna kick my ass. "

"You deserve it."

"It's gonna hurt."

"I'm a medic, she reminded him.

"... Oh yeah. Fine. Whatever." He exhaled, long and slow and raspy, and buried his face closer to her neck. "You were right," he said, voice muffled, "I don't give a damn anymore what happens to me. I doubt anybody does."

"I do," she said, wrapping her arms around him so her hands could rest on his back.

"I thought you'd have fallen for Naruto by now. Or that other guy, the Hyuuga—Neji."

She almost laughed. Almost. "No. Neji and I have never quite gotten along."

"Good," he said again, hand somehow finding the dip of her waist. "You're mine."

"Yeah," she agreed. "A little."

* * *

_"Hn."_  
God, Sasuke, do you have to be such a dick about everything? All the same, I've sort of always wanted to write that. Sasuke just happens to almost never appear in my fics so I've never really had the chance.

I was thinking about _maybe_ playing around with this story, expanding it and exploring the consequences. Yea or nay?

_Ja na!_


	2. Chapter 2

So! After much thought I decided to continue this after all. I'm not entirely sure where it's _going_, exactly, or how long it will take to get there. I made some minor changes to the last chapter—typos and the like.

I forgot to mention last chapter that the original concept was inspired by every picture of SasuSaku in the rain _ever_. They're all so beautiful! From this point on, though, it's inspired by all the various images of Team 7 reunited and working/living in the village.

Enjoy!

* * *

"... like I don't even know you anymore!"

Uchiha Sasuke exhaled softly, laced fingers tightening as he looked over them and carefully ignored the slight rasp of his breath. Elbows digging into his thighs, hunched forward, he sat in a loose approximation of what used to be his default posture. Over the years with Orochimaru and Kabuto, Sasuke had perfected the art of masking his thoughts, but being in Konoha was bringing old habits to the fore with almost startling alacrity—thus his falling back on casually hiding half his face from view. There was undeniably something comforting about glaring over his hands at whoever was testing his patience. He'd spent much of his youth doing the same.

"You don't," he said firmly, eyes narrowed. "It's been three years. You don't know me; don't pretend that you do."

"I know you better than anyone else on the _planet_," Naruto staunchly insisted, bringing a splayed hand to his chest. He closed it around the material of his jacket, head hanging slightly. His glaringly yellow hair had grown out some since the last time Sasuke had seen him, and the bangs partially obscured his expression. It was annoying. "I know how much pain you're in, Sasuke. I know how difficult it is to come back after being gone for so long—"

"Shut _up_," he snapped. Having already endured more than forty minutes of his old teammate's rambling declarations of friendship and empathy, juxtaposed by spans of entire minutes during which he did nothing but either shout or stare at Sasuke, the Uchiha firmly believed he had earned lashing out in turn. "You don't know anything about me."

Naruto lifted his head, jaw set and eyes gleaming; he was the picture of resolve. It was irritating as hell, and Sasuke turned his head away under the guise of coughing into his shoulder. Meeting that determined, even stare was difficult when he had done nothing to warrant it in the first place. Being wet and exhausted with a bad cold didn't help. "I know you're my friend. My best friend."

Sakura still loved him, and Naruto still considered him his best friend? Had leaving made any difference at all?

"... That doesn't mean you know me," he pointed out stubbornly, and watched a grin split his... friend's... face in half.

"_Finally!_" he shouted, shooting to his feet and bounding over to the door. Sasuke watched him wrench it open with no small amount of surprise, having thought it locked. After all, what sort of interrogation took place in an unlocked room?

Apparently, one in which Naruto was the interrogator. Sasuke had thought he was just in there to kill time and keep Sasuke occupied until Ibiki got there. The longer Naruto spoke to whoever was outside, however, the more obvious it became that that was not the case. Though admittedly, Sasuke was just about ready to offer up any and all information he had to offer if it would just keep the blond's mouth _shut_. "—dja hear that, Baa-chan? Kakashi-sensei? That's on record now, right? He said it himself, so just let him go now! He needs to get into new clothes too, his are soaked!"

Sasuke frowned while Kakashi responded slowly. "Well, I can't really deny that, but _technically_, Naruto—"

A woman's clipped voice reached Sasuke's ear, sounding irritated as she cut in. "The agreement was that when Uchiha admitted to still having ties to Konoha we would let him go! He's said nothing of the sort. Don't go jumping to conclusions, brat!"

Naruto waved off her concerns—literally and with a huge smile. "This is _Sasuke_. You gotta listen to what he _doesn't_ say, not what he _does_. His silences say more than most people can in a day, you just have to know how to listen right!"

Sasuke blinked and sat upright, shoulders back and hands falling to his lap. That comment was... uncomfortably accurate. By rule of thumb, if a person couldn't figure out what Sasuke meant when he didn't speak, they weren't worth the time it would take to explain with words. That Naruto somehow understood despite the two of them not interacting in so long was astounding. Sighing softly, he rubbed his hand over his face and turned away in time to smother another cough. They were coming more frequently, and Sasuke would be lying if he said he wasn't a little frightened after seeing Itachi die from an unknown illness that could very well be highly contagious.

"Oh for—Anko, just let me in there, will you!" The shout reverberated through the corridor outside Sasuke's room, and his head snapped around to see the door. That was Sakura's voice, and she sounded more annoyed than anything else, so Sasuke waited impatiently for her to appear.

After arriving in Konoha with Sasuke and the sodden remnants of Team Hebi in tow, Sakura had promptly been whisked off by some brunette in a kimono while Sasuke was frog-marched to the surprisingly well-lit T&I base and thrown into the room he still occupied. Naruto had come around about twenty minutes later by Sasuke's estimation and been there ever since. Considering that the _only _person Sasuke had any desire to be around was, in fact, Sakura, Naruto's impromptu speech had done nothing to improve his mood. The Uchiha could barely restrain himself from tapping his foot as the seconds passed but then there she was, sweeping past the three shinobi gathered by the door and kneeling in front of him, one hand settling gently on his knee. She had a bag slung over the other arm and set it down beside her as she smiled at him. Her eyes were much warmer than they had been when she initially caught sight of him. "Hey, Sasuke-kun."

"Sakura," he said simply, and closed his eyes, letting his back rest against the chair. Her hand left his knee and she sorted through her bag for a moment; he heard bottles clinking together and then smelled a tangy, bitter scent that nearly made his nose wrinkle. "You brought medicine?" She had appointed herself his personal medic en route, much to Suigetsu's amusement. Sasuke spared a thought for his teammates, each of whom was likely undergoing actual interrogations as opposed to the farce Sasuke had been met with, before focusing once again on the girl before him.

"Yep! This will tide you over until we can get you to the hospital, and I'll do the full procedure there."

He cracked open his eye to peer at her through his lashes. "... What procedure?"

Her cheery smile was gone in an instant, replaced by a blank expression that could rival his own as she laid bare the facts. Matching her serious tone with the attention it warranted, Sasuke accepted her words without flinching, merely flexing his hands as she spoke. "You don't just have a cold or the flu, Sasuke. You're diseased, not sick. I assume it's the same illness that killed Itachi; I checked the old Uchiha medical records and saw that quite a few cases of—" She cut herself off, no doubt remembering his declaration that morning that he would prefer not to know what had reduced his traitorous bastard of a brother to the feeble, pale man who had brushed his fingertips over Sasuke's brow and fucking _apologized_ and _died_ before explaining what for. "—this have been recorded. It's very treatable as long as it's caught soon enough. Yours has been, while your brother's probably wasn't, or he rejected treatment. Considering his membership in Akatsuki and that the treatment requires a minimum of two month's rest and then another of low activity to fully recover your energy, I assume it was the latter. He probably took medication for pain and to suppress the cough, which would only have made it worse in the long run."

He nodded in acknowledgement and Sakura smiled again, just a little. "Usual symptoms are fatigue, fever, headache, a dry cough that grows productive and then bloody as time passes, disorganized thoughts, aches in the body... I imagine you've been dealing with most of those. All that will be gone by the end of the week." His hands loosened on his thighs. The thought was an appealing one, to be sure.

She continued, "The procedure I have in mind will clear out your lungs and hyper-activate your body's natural resistance to this disease by establishing a steady flow of chakra into your immune system. That will strengthen it and enable you to fight it off naturally and is why you'll need so much rest: to keep from dying of chakra depletion. Things _will_ get ugly if you try to rush the process because I'm not above putting my patients in physical restraints or drugging them to keep them in place." He thought she shot an angry glare towards the doorway before looking back at Sasuke's face. "After the first month has passed there will be another procedure to check your progress and probably lessen the flow of chakra, and after the second, yet another to stop it entirely while your body takes care of everything else. There will be another check up every fortnight for the next two months, and then once a month, every other month, and so on to make sure you don't relapse." They were both silent for several minutes, and then she touched his hand with one of hers. "Sasuke, please say something." He stared at her and she amended the address. "I mean Sasuke-kun."

"So I'll be fine," he ventured quietly, aware of the keen interest emanating from Naruto, Kakashi, and the Hokage.

"Yes."

"Then don't look so serious." Lifting a hand, he sat a little straighter and touched her cheek. "You said yourself that this is treatable and it sounds like you have a plan. It's not a death sentence." Green eyes widened just a bit, either at the gesture or his words, and then Sakura schooled her features into a look of clinical detachment and spoke crisply.

"You should know that one of the symptoms is delirium."

It took a moment to understand her words, and then another to puzzle out why she had been reluctant to mention that little tidbit. Sakura believed that he had returned due to fanciful notions brought on by the disease, and probably suspected that he would leave again after being cured. The idea held some attraction; Sasuke didn't know how well he would take being integrated back into the general populace of Konoha. He'd been careful, though, leaving the avenue of return open. He hadn't attacked any shinobi from villages allied with his hometown (Naruto's team didn't count; they'd been asking for it); had in fact hardly left Oto before killing Orochimaru.

He'd always intended to come back, after Itachi was dead.

While the delirium certainly explained why his tongue was so loose—since when had he been the type to verbalize a claim or affirm a friendship?—it didn't change his intentions. It didn't change what he felt, or what he wanted. Suddenly irritated at her lack of faith, Sasuke fisted his hands, eye narrowing at her. "Don't question me. I made my choice, Sakura," he said deliberately, voice sharp, and her eyes narrowed as she stood, shoving the medicine towards him.

"Don't talk down to me, Sasuke! I won't tolerate it!"

He stood as well, holding the little cup of chestnut fluid in a tight fist. "I _wasn't_."

"You were being condescending!"

"I am _always_ condescending!" he snapped back, then froze at Naruto's howl of laughter. He sneered at the blond. "Shut up, loser!"

Naruto made his way over with a shit-eating grin firmly in place. "I never thought I'd actually hear you admit that you're less than perfect! Way to go, Sakura-chan!" He slung an arm over the girl's shoulders. Sasuke nearly snarled at him for that, but an instant later Naruto's other arm settled on his own quite casually. The gesture was every bit as proprietary of Sasuke as it was Sakura; he had no room to complain. Shaking the taller teen a little, he ordered, "Take your medicine, bastard. It's gonna taste like crap, mind you, but you'll feel better. Sakura's a whiz with all that medical stuff."

She grumbled and crossed her arms, temper apparently defused after Naruto's timely intervention. She eyed him while he drained the small cup; Sasuke couldn't quite bring himself to mind. Sighing, she accepted the little paper cup and crumpled it up in her hand before tossing it towards the door. "Could you throw that away, Kakashi-sensei?" she called, and then looked between the boys watching her. "I've arranged it so you're going to the hospital before anything else. The team working on you will be myself, Shizune, and two other medics I trust implicitly. Somebody will come and get an official statement from you sometime tomorrow, _if_ I sign off that your condition is stable enough to handle the stress." His old teammates exchanged small, mischievous smirks, and Sasuke realized not for the first time that perhaps Sakura was not quite the teacher's pet he remembered. That was good; it had always annoyed him. Shifting his weight, Sasuke let his shoulders slump under Naruto's arm, which immediately firmed while Sakura's eyes fixed on his face, brows drawn together as she examined him.

Support and concern.

He wasn't accustomed to such things. To be honest, he hadn't been for a long, long time—since his clan was slaughtered. He'd worked so damned hard not to need anyone or anything, but it all fell apart as soon as he had just a little less control of himself than usual. It was, Sasuke told himself, the fever and fatigue that caused him to lift his left hand and grasp the back of Naruto's shoulder. Due only to the illness clouding his thoughts, Sasuke allowed himself to lean heavily on the other teen, exhaustion closing his eyes and making him sway.

It had absolutely nothing to do with the swell of emotion he felt at being able to _rely upon_ the two of them. There was no connection to the fact that for the first time in a long while, Sasuke did not have to be the responsible one. The burden wasn't his alone anymore, and Sasuke could not lie to himself about why that thought caused his eyes to sting with sternly-suppressed tears.

* * *

Cripes, when he's not being a total jerk Sasuke is absolutely adorable.

...an_ instant later Naruto's other arm settled on his own quite casually._

My OT3 is showing. I regret nothing.

There will be another installment after this, but I'm not sure when.

_Ja na!_


End file.
